


Must Be Desperate

by orphan_account



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Being an Idiot, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Needs a Hug, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Hurt, Eventual Relationships, Hurt Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Implied Sexual Content, Incest, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Morally Neutral Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Morning After, Naked Cuddling, Nudity, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Episode: Putting Others First - Selfishness v. Selflessness Redux | Sanders Sides, Secret Crush, Sibling Incest, Sleepiness, Sympathetic Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Twincest, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, basically they fucked and now remus thinks the world hates him, roman is just stupid, spoilers: the world doesn't hate him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:00:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24646054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Who the hell needs love, anyway?
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	Must Be Desperate

The first thing he becomes aware of is a weight pressed against his back. Not overly weird, he decides, and not unwelcome; the pressure against his skin grounds him in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time, warm to the touch, comforting in its presence no matter how odd and foreign it might be, and hey, it’s not as bad as some of the experiences the creative side has dealt with in the past, so it might as well happen. It’s almost enough to lull him back to sleep, comfortable as it is.

An arm wraps around his waist. Hot air blows against the back of his neck, someone mumbling under their breath before trailing off into quiet snores.

Remus tenses, suddenly hyperaware of the sheets strewn across his nude frame and the unmistakable smell of sex hanging in the air.

Oh. He got laid.

Huh.

Nice.

Carefully, twisting himself from the other’s grasp, he sits up, pressing himself against the wall and rubbing at his head with a groan. A throb pulses at his temples, consistent in its assault, helped only by the dim lighting of his room (thank God he stopped Janus all those years ago from putting in windows). He aches, aches in places he forgot existed let alone could _ache_ , and before his mind can run with the imagery of beaten to a pulp before being chopped into bits he decides it’s pleasant, just to stop his headache from getting any worse.

Remus swallows, his insides doing flips. He’s all too aware of how sticky and warm he is.

It’s not that any of this bothers him. It’d be hard for much of anything to bother him these days, even if the universe tries its best to test his tolerance on occasion. He spends most of his time conjuring dead bodies, plotting ways to kill and torture, indulging in the forbidden and the wrong to his heart’s content; playing any unwelcome, disturbing thought on repeat until Thomas finally gives in and pays him enough attention to satiate him, at least for a little while. How could something as mundane as _sex_ bother him?

An arm snakes around his waist once more, and Remus glances down without thinking, freezing when he takes in the sleeping face lying next to him, lax in its blissfully unaware slumber and scarred from what Remus knows is from a few harsh words too many.

He bites down on his tongue hard enough that he tastes blood.

Answer: it doesn’t. Hell, even knowing who lies next to him, it’s far from bothersome.

Though he’s sure that it would bother his crush and twin brother, Roman, who’s currently nuzzled up against his bruised and bitemark-ridden hip.

Remus falters, tense and strangely at a loss for words, allowing the current situation to settle in his mind. He buries his fingers in Roman’s hair, swallowing hard when his brother leans into the touch.

And at three in the morning, still dazed from sleep and frazzled from his rather rude anxiety kicking up for no reason other than to be a nuisance, Remus lies back down, pulls the sheets up over his shoulders, curls up against Roman’s chest and sighs. He allows himself to take comfort in the other’s arms around him, eyelids growing heavier as he shoves his thoughts aside in favor of focusing on Roman’s breath brushing against his hair and tracing over the welts and bruises on his skin. He considers allowing himself to fantasize about what this could’ve been like in a different scenario, where they aren’t at odds and the world doesn’t feel like it hates him for the terrible crime of existing, but he stops the thought before it can grow into anything more.

He knows shit will hit the fan in the morning. He knows he’ll be blamed, being the “bad” brother, the “corrupted” one, the one who always ruins everything and puts a wrench in every plan Roman has ever had. He knows that Roman will probably hate him and never talk to him again the moment he realizes what’s happened—and hell, maybe the others will hate him, too. It’s not like any of them care enough about him to check up on him on occasion, and hell, the only real family he ever had left him the moment they got a taste of something better. Why _wouldn’t_ they hate him?

And sure, he can’t even remember what happened, but that doesn’t—no, it _won’t_ —matter. It never does with him. The calm will end when the morning comes, and the most he can do is wait for the storm to consume him.

And that’s okay, he tells himself as sleep finally gives him mercy and the world starts to grow fuzzy around the edges. It’s okay if they hate him. It’s okay if they leave him. Really. It’s their loss.

Still, chest aching and eyes stinging with tears, Remus closes his eyes with the thought still echoing in the back of his mind, chasing after him as he slips away: _Must’ve been desperate to come running to me for comfort._

_Who the hell needs love, anyway?_

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!! I'm not dead!!
> 
> So, I know as of right now, I have Keep the Lights Off discontinued (I want to revisit it at a later date, I still have the draft on my flashdrive and I didn't take the story down...but right now writing it is very hard for me) but I still can't help but write for this ship and the characters. There's a lot of potential and I can't just help but mess around and see what I can do with them. Not to mention that Remus for some reason becomes very sexual when I write him, so it's good practice for me and my baby-SFW writer brain to try out the more Forbidden Topics (I know there's no actual sex in this chapter but I Also know what's going to be going on in the next chapter so...). It's fun, trying out things. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!! If I need to tag something or if anyone has questions, please tell me and I'll see what I can do!!


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